River of Red

By: Sister Shadow - Li

Summary: One-part. Harry Potter. "Why am I here?" she asked. "Because we have a use for you." I girl from the 'real world' and her rebirth, even though she wasn't supposed to exist.

A/N: Just something that hit me. I wanted to do a multi-chapter of this idea just after I finished Broken Mirror Reflecting's third chapter, but this seemed like a better option.

Hope you like it! Read the Ending Notes, too, please.

5-14-06: This has now been edited, changed a bit, and reposted.

BEGIN…

A girl stood in the middle of a crowded street, long skirt swirling in the wind. Her classmates, walking home with their friend, turned to stare at her in concern.

"Are you alright?" one asked. A bus noisily passed by, causing her short, unruly brown hair to snap back against her head from the rush of air.

"Why'd you stopped?" the other asked. She laid a hand on the first girl's shoulder, trying to snap the girl's glazed look away.

They all wore the uniform of a private school somewhere in the city. The fourth girl, dressed in a boy's uniform, was worried more than the others for her cousin.

"What's wrong?" her cousin asked. She'd seen the other girl spaced out before, but never so much that she didn't respond. She caressed her long hair in a wavering hand. "Tell us, please."

"…" The girl was silent for a moment. "Some one's Calling…" She trailed off, looking toward the darkening sky. Skyscrapers crowded her view and all she could see of the sky was cloudy darkness.

"Who's calling?" the second girl asked, the only one not touching her friend.

"Has she done this before?" the third girl asked her friend's cousin quietly. She had shoulder length light hair that fell in her blue eyes alight with concern.

"No. Not that I know of." The girl in a boy's clothes stared at her cousin, who she had only known for a little while and lived with an even shorter time.

"They want me to come…" She was in a trance-like state, still staring at the sky.

"Who wants you to come?" her friend asked, stroking her hair for something to do. The teen's voice was soft and gentle, as if speaking to a wild animal or frantic person.

"Are you sure?" the same girl whispered to the cousin.

"Yes," was her reply. "My family moved right after taking custody of her. This hasn't happened before, even before we came here."

"What happened to her parents?" the friend asked, her other friend trying to get answers (gently) out of the silent, staring girl. "Something might have happened to cause emotional damage."

"No," the cousin said, pulling away from the other. "Her mother sent her to us for vacation, then disappeared."

"Before she came, maybe?" They were all worried. She just wanted to know what was going on, and how to help.

The girl's silent and still state was drawing attention from a gathering crowd. People from all walks of life stood and stared, from the homeless man on the street corner to the business man talking on a cell phone.

"No. They lived pretty far away, but she would've told Grandmother if something had happened. As far as we know, her life was peaceful and normal."

As if noticing everyone's curious gazes, the once-still girl began to walk as if nothing had happened, still staring at what she could see of the sky. Her friends followed, having a hard time keeping up with her hard and steady pace.

"Sars?" the cousin asked, using the nickname she'd been told to use. It was far from the girl's real name, but it was known she hated the one her father had given her.

"What's going on?" the first friend asked the second, almost tripping over her own shoes as they hurried after the girl.

"I don't know." Blue eyes darkened with concern. She lifted her skirt, making it easier to walk faster.

"I think she has to go to whoever is calling," the cousin said.

"But who's calling?"

"I don't know," she said in resignation, pulling a pocket watch from her pants pocket in order to check the time. "But we need to get her home soon, or Mother will worry."

"I'm coming…" She heard their friend whisper, eyes still glazed.

"Where?" the short haired girl asked. It was a rhetorical question.

They continued to follow her; it was all they could currently do.

She went past stores, office buildings, storage houses, apartment complexes; ignoring them all until she came upon the river a half mile from the city's center, where they'd been. A yellow-painted bridge connected both sides of their city, one in the East and one in the West.

'Where is she going?' they asked themselves. None of the girls save the out-of-it one knew the answer.

...eternity...

Inside her mind, Sars saw where she was and knew where she was going. At the same time she heard things: poems and sonnets she knew somehow, even though the words were beyond her grasp; songs in tongues and sung by voices she knew weren't there. There was a river beside her, leading the path, and darkness everywhere else.

"Where am I going?" she asked.

"To a place you are needed," answered a voice she Knew but didn't Know. It was the only thing solid here on what she knew was the edge of madness; a unisex voice that kept her from falling into the river. And somehow, it had gentle hands that guided her along the edge.

The river was red. A River of Blood, of Tears, of Dreams. Of Everything and Nothing at once.

Who holds their hand over the River of Red, causing a ripple from a bleeding wound? A female soprano sang.

Others chorused an answer. The one who Knows, the one who Dreams. The one with a Wish of absent color.

"Why am I here?" she asked, ignoring the voices and concentrating on nothing yet everything. This place was a confusing one, but it also seemed familiar.

"Because we have a use for you." There was nothing in the unisex voice's tone but flatness.

"What use?" she asked. Somehow, his tone didn't effect her.

There was no answer.

She knew from the outside, her body had almost reached the destination , the place of the one calling for her.

Heart of Heart, Mind of Minds, Lead us down the path of refuge.

What path did they sing of? Why did they want her to enter the River of Red, which would swallow her reasoning and leave nothing individual about her?

She knew, if she gave into their tempting, she would become one of the Whispering Voices and would in turn attempt to bring others into madness. Her body would become a shell to house the River of Red and its singers until it stopped functioning.

A fate worse than death, in her eyes.

"We're almost there." A statement, not a question.

"Yes." The solid one answered this, though.

"Where are we, then?" She already knew the answer. Anything to pass the time, even a little.

"A place you are needed." What she wanted most; her wish. To help. Would it finally be granted, at least for a little while?

"Needed for what?" Curiosity killed the cat, they say. But hopefully, satisfaction would bring it back.

"Something over the heads of others." Of mortals, maybe? Or ones who hadn't been trained for such things?

"Over even my head?" Still nine lives left, she decided. Hopefully this place that needed her wouldn't require one of them.

"Possibly."

"Will you help me understand, even if I don't?" Hope crept into the voice she'd tried hard to make emotionless.

"…" She didn't think the other would answer. "Maybe."

She smiled. "Maybe?" Rhetorical, even if the other didn't know.

"We are here."

She looked around, but only saw the depths of a river in the night (when had it gotten so dark?) from the middle of a yellow bridge. "Truly?"

"Yes."

"But where…?" She stared at her reflection in the depths. "No."

"No. Not, but almost."

Her body continued on to the end of the bridge and turned towards an old house to her left.

"There?"

"Yes."

"It looks a bit rundown to be so important."

"The one calling is there."

"Ah."

"Go back, now."

"Yes…"

Peace. A feeling that overwhelmed her consciousness and numbed her trance-mind enough for there to be no damage going back.

The river began to fade, and light overtook the maddening darkness. She was returned to her body in time to knock on the awaiting door.

eternity...

"What's so important about this house?" the light haired friend asked the others.

"I don't know. I didn't even know this was here." The short haired girl stared at the old, Victorian house.

They stood on the porch. The place was in need of repair; white-washed paint was peeling, the windows boarded where someone had broken them, and stutters hanging from rusted hinges. The wood and structure, at least, were (mostly) perfectly fine. There seemed no chance that the floor would collapse and they would all fall through.

"I don't think she did, either," the cousin stated. She stood to Sars' right, the other two to her left, with a hand back in her hair.

The long haired girl raised her fist and knocked on the door. Her classmates traded glances, uncertain what to do. Help or wait? They couldn't decide.

After a moment, shuffling came from inside. The three undecided tensed, the girl in boy's clothes tightening her grip on her cousin protectively.

"So," said a voice from behind the door. They could make out a body from the large, curtained windows on either side. "You are here. But who are they?"

Still tense, the others started as the once-entranced girl spoke.

"You have Called me. My friends only worried for my sake what would happen, and followed." She glanced at each friend in turn, smiling and odd, slight smile.

"Come," the man said, more a command than a request.

The door opened. The person inside stood behind it, waiting for the girl and her friends to enter. He seemed to have resigned himself to all of them entering his home.

Sars entered first, followed by her protective cousin and her short haired, nervous friend. The light headed girl came in last, glancing around the bare entrance hall warily. They all acted as if something dangerous was going to jump out and attack them any moment.

The man, still in the shadows, shut the door behind them with a finalized 'bang'.

"You are the only one who answered. Humph. Kids nowadays," he muttered, coming into the light.

The Caller was a balding man in his fifties, fit, and dressed in dusty work clothes from a different century. He was pale, almost glowing in the faint light of an electric chandelier that had one too many bulbs burst. His eyes, though, were a vibrant brown, almost reddish, and stared at them in calculation.

"Why did you Call me?" she asked, still feeling the peacefulness of when she'd left the River of Red and Madness behind. Everything was clearer now than it had been in a long time.

"I didn't just Call you," the man said, disgruntled. "I Called to those who could help. It isn't my fault you're the only one who could hear. Or answered."

"Ah." She smiled. "Not many would want to."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." He waved the subject off, ignoring the hard stares of the girl's friends. "Now, are you ready?"

"For what?" the cousin asked, putting herself between the strange man and her even stranger family. "What's going on?"

"What Call? Why didn't we hear anything?" asked the short haired girl, protecting her friend's back.

The pale haired one was silent, but her glare promised slow decapitation if they didn't like the man's answer.

Sars' expression was amused. The man who had Called just snorted at the 'youngster's' lack of manners.

"What do they teach you kids these days? Where are your manners, eh?" He didn't expect a serious answer, but got one anyway.

"We save them for those who deserve them," the short haired girl answered snappishly.

"Now, please explain," said the cousin, who tried to be more polite only because manners were bred into her.

"Everyone, please," the girl gripped her cousin's arm, glancing at her friends pleadingly, "calm down. I am here because there is something they need of me. This man was only fulfilling a job by Calling me, correct?"

The man nodded. "Yeah. They pay well, as long as the ones that come aren't too annoying. I kick them that are out. No sense in keeping them, when the pay'd go down a'cause of them."

"But-" the short haired one began.

Sars shook her head and put a silencing finger to her friend's lips. "It's alright. When I am done, I will be back."

"You done?" the man asked, frowning in irritation. "There is a time limit, you know."

The girl turned to him. "Yes, I know." He pointed to the stairs, she nodded. "The second floor; I'll be there in a moment."

"Humph." The man began to ascend. "You'd better hurry."

The girl's smile was gentle, despite his gruff attitude. "I will. Thank you."

"Whatever." He disappeared as the stairs curved into a hallway at the top, leaving the girls alone.

The girl in boy's clothing spun around to face her cousin, expression clouded with anger. "What is going on, Sars? What's this Calling and 'I am needed' nonsense?"

"What happened to you?" the light haired girl asked more gently. "You weren't yourself."

"We were worried," continued her short haired friend. "Will you tell us what's going on?"

"Yes." The girl nodded, eyes closed in concentration. "I heard a voice calling me. It lead me to a place I can't describe other than it was filled with confusion and madness. I asked why I was here. I was told I was needed to help someone, and I had to come here to do it."

"That's-that's crazy!" her cousin burst out, panicky.

"No, it isn't," the light haired girl said. The other two stared at her. "What? Maybe she just heard something we couldn't. My cat does the same thing."

"Sars isn't a cat," the cousin said indignantly. "Though sometimes I wonder…"

The girl's smile was cat-like as she nodded. "Excellent. Yes, I heard something not many can nowadays. And it isn't the first time."

"When was the last?" her short haired friend wanted to know.

"When I was a child, if I remember correctly. I heard someone calling, and I followed the voice to answer. That's when I first came to visit Grandmother. You were still in boarding school," she told her cousin. "I'd wanted to meet you, but your mother said 'no'."

"She's like that," her cousin muttered. "Then what happened?"

"I went someplace I didn't know. It was like another world; in fact, it was. There was a kid being chased by bullies. You know how I am." She laughed at her friend's understanding gestures. "I distracted the ones ganging up on the boy so he could get away. They said not to interfere with their 'game' or I would get hurt.

"But I disappeared back here." She explained for her friend's confusion, "To this house. He'd Called me, that man from before. Once I complete what I was Called to do, I'll return."

"So if he's gone through so much trouble because someone needs help you have to go," the short haired girl said. Her friend nodded. She sighed. "Fine. We'll wait."

"Wait?" She seemed uncertain.

"Yes, wait. It can't take that long." Her cousin crossed her arms stubbornly, supporting their friend's idea.

"We can't go with you, since we can't hear the Call, can we?" the short haired girl asked.

"No…" She stared at them with wide eyes, not quite understanding what they said they wanted to do.

"The least we can do is wait, then," the short haired one confirmed.

"If you want…"

"Yes," her cousin said. "We want to. It can't be that long, can it?"

"I-" She was cut off by the man yelling for her from upstairs. "I have to go, now."

"Have fun?" was all her light haired friend could think to say.

"Thank you…" She trailed off, not wanting to get emotional when she would soon deal with a no-nonsense Caller.

"No need to thank us," said the short haired one, smiling at her. "We're your friends." The other two nodded in agreement.

It was all she could do not to tear up. She was a girl; it was expected. "See you soon, I hope."

"Yeah…" Her cousin squeezed the hand she'd grabbed earlier and finally released it.

She ascended the stairs, not daring to look back. If she did, she knew she would be tempted to stay.

eternity…

"Finally done?" the man asked, impatient.

"Yes. Thank you for waiting." He waved off her thanks and told her to follow him.

The upstairs was a maze of hallways and seemed bigger then what she'd seen from outside. It probably was, too; there was such a thing as magic here, after all.

"Which door?" she asked, loosing count of the halls they went down but not tired of walking in the least.

"Be patient," the man said; more like ordered. "We'll be there soon enough."

"Yes." She didn't add the 'sir' because, like the last time they'd met, she doubted he would see it as respected. He was too suspicious and paranoid when it came to people, though she supposed it came with his job.

"Almost there," he stated after a while. The wall's colors, formerly a pale and fading cream, had turned to pink.

"Yes." She took his word for it. The doors were all the same; only the faint color change was all the difference she could see.

The walls went from pale pink to a darker one, than finally a pale, light red.

"Am I going back, or there in person?" she asked the man, knowing he would know what she meant.

"What?" he grunted. "What'd you mean?"

"To the River of Red," she said, running her fingertips along the painted wood as she walked. "Is that where I'm to go?"

"No," the man said shortly. "Why would you want to go there?"

"I didn't, and don't," she said. "I was just wondering. It seemed as good a guess as any."

"You've been to where we're going," he said, turning his head to look her in the eye, never pausing in his pace. "Or don't you remember?"

"Of course I remember," she confirmed. "But it seemed like a dream, at the time."

"Not nearly. It would've been better if it was." He didn't think before he spoke, and regretted the last sentence.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You weren't supposed to go so soon. That's why I'm glad you're the one who answered." She hadn't known that. "You'll be going to the same place as last time, but in a different form."

"You mean my spirit, not my body, will go?" she asked, confused.

"Something like that. It's a long-term mission, and while no time will pass here for your body, your soul will be living months, years even." He didn't seem sympathetic in the least.

"Who will explain? Is there going to be someone there when I get there?" It was important to get as much information as she could so it would be easier to adapt. At least, that'd been her mother's advice when she'd asked in her childhood lessons.

"Your guide will." The man stopped suddenly, in front of a door like all the others. Same wood, same color; nothing to set it apart, not even the aura of world it led to. "Here." He handed her a worn, steel key with the runes Sowilo, Ansuz, and Raidho engraved on the holding part.

"The key the world's doorway?" she asked for confirmation.

He nodded. "Whenever you're ready, open the door and jump in." He smiled crookedly in anticipation.

"Alright…" Shakily, she positioned the key in the key hole and turned it slowly. The man watched her every move like a hawk would its prey, waiting for something as she opened the plain, wooden door.

Behind it was a different kind of blackness than what resided in the River of Red and Madness.

She stared into the emptiness, mouth agape. "What-?" she turned back to ask the Calling man.

He stared at her in disappointment, something else shining in his eyes that she didn't know if she wanted to see. "Well? Aren't you going?"

"But-it's-" She didn't know what she was going to say.

"Oh, come on. I though you were brave." He let out a mock-sigh. "Well, then, I guess I'll have to give you a little push."

He shoved her through the door.

Eyes wide in shock, she fell backwards into the darkness, unconsciously catching the key back to her world as it fell from the lock when the man closed the door. Light faded, and soon all was black.

another place…

She came too to someone shaking her shoulder. Her body felt strangely different, smaller and less developed than what she was used to. The air felt different, too, but still familiar.

She was in the other place, then. But where? Last time she'd appeared in an elementary school's playground and disappeared after running around the surrounding suburbs being chased by a group of boys.

She opened here eyes, only to stare at a white-marble ceiling, arched in a Gothic style and very detailed in design.

Groaning, Sars tried lifted her heavy arm, succeeding in her intent to throw it over her eyes to block out the too-bright light, wincing as her wrist throbbed in pain.

Had she fallen and broken it when she'd arrived? No, the man had said that her soul would be transported, not her body, this time.

"You drank to much, dear," came a female voice to her left, from a standing woman she'd glanced before closing her eyes again. "I gave her a Blood Replenishing Potion. I'll have to talk with your parents, I'm afraid. You should know better than to take so much blood, even if she offered."

"I'm sorry," a child's voice sniffed. The girl had been crying (she could tell by the hoarse way she spoke), and sounded sincere.

"It isn't me you should be apologizing to," the woman said sternly but kindly. She seemed to be done scolding the girl.

Someone shook her shoulder again, and another hoarse voice whispered, "C'mon. Viv didn't mean to, so please wake up." It was a young boy who, too, had been crying.

Over her?

"Uh…" she responded to his gentle probing.

The boy gasped and released her. "Madam Mankale! She's awake!"

"Oh, yes, of course. How silly of me to forget." The woman's- Madam Mankale, a nurse, doctor? - footsteps clicked across the stone floor she lay one, and knelt down beside the confused girl. The calm she'd felt since leaving the River of Red and Madness began to evaporate and it took all her self-control not to bolt up and dive away.

She had to assess the situation to finish the job she's agreed to do. Waiting for the one who would guide her was first priority.

"Avrul?" Madam Mankale's voice asked patiently, her touch gentle and soft. "Are you alright?"

"Uh…" she groaned again in reply, pretending to be only half aware.

Avrul must be her name here. How odd, she thought, that I wanted that to be my nickname as a child. Before mother took me away and taught me, that is.

"Can you hear me? Can you speak?" the nurse asked, leaning over her.

"Yes…" she rasped. Her throat felt raw. "What happened?"

"What do you last remember?" the professional asked. Her answer was silence. "Vivian?"

"I- She offered to feed me, since I was getting bored with animals and fake blood," came the girl's voice, more a whimper than anything else. "I got carried away, even when she told me it hurt. Oh, Av! I'm so sorry!"

So, this Vivian child was a vampire she somehow knew well enough to want to feed. That explained the throbbing pain in her wrist, the only other point besides the neck that vampires didn't frown upon using. Madam Mankale was a healer (nurse, doctor, or such), and the boy was also her friend.

Sars-turned-Avrul mentally sighed, blaming her mother for knowledge and thanking her for the calculating that prevented her from panicking.

"It's… alright?" She spoke it as a question, not sure what else to do. She coughed a little and heard Vivian began to sob.

Someone pressed a glass vial to her lips and told her to swallow. She did, and something wonderfully cool healed her throat she it slid down. She took a generous portion before the tube was pulled away.

A potion from Madam Mankale. She hadn't thought there were potions and such when she'd visited before. Then, it had seemed like her old world, save the different feeling.

"Thank you…" she said, sitting up with the woman's help. The madam checked her pupils with a stick that glowed at the end and her mouth-"ah" combination that doctors did at checkups.

"No side effects. You'll need another B.R. Potion soon enough," she abbreviated the Blood Replenishing Potion, "but you're otherwise fine. Get a bit of rest, though, Avrul, so no one will worry."

"Yes, Madam Mankale," she said, feeling a bit dazed but otherwise physically fine.

The woman laughed. "I'll be going now, dears. Help her to her room, would you, Vivian, Gale?"

"Yes!" they both chorused, the boy helping her to her feet as the girl stared at the woman's back.

As soon as Madam Mankale was out of earshot, Vivian began apologizing again. "I'm sorry, so sorry! I shouldn't have, but I couldn't stop, and…" She began to sob, leaning against her as the boy Gale supported both their weight with great effort.

"It's alright," she said more firmly this time, pushing the girl away using her good arm enough to stare into her golden eyes. "It was only your instincts, right?"

"Oh, you're so forgiving!" Vivian cried. She hung onto her shoulders, leaning down a bit.

She noticed for the first time how short and young this body must be. "Please…" she began, but stopped at a look from Gale. They looked so alike, they must be brother and sister.

"Just let her cry it out," the boy whispered in her ear. "It'll be over soon, and you can be in that library you call a bedroom soon enough."

So even here she loved to read. Or, at least, she and this Avrul person shared an interest.

another place…

Once Vivian had worn herself out from crying, the vampire siblings had shown her to this body's room. It a shadowy, book-laden paradise as far as she was concerned. She couldn't wait to start on the piles-upon-piles it seemed the former Avrul had already read.

But before she could, however, she knew the waiting for her guide would come first. Her mother had taught her well when it came to priority and assessment.

"Are you there, oh One to Guide me?" she asked, not being dramatic in the least. Guides, she had been taught, liked appreciation more than anything else. If she 'buttered him/her up', say, it would be a much simpler and easy relationship.

"Stop with the dramatics," a male voice said from behind her. "I don't know what you were told, but I'm not much like the others."

She turned slowly, and stared at the boy in the shadowed corner. Maybe not a boy, but not yet a man, at least from what she could see. A male teenager form, then, though she knew that guides had no gender and just took whatever form pleased them at the moment. Fickle and attention-seeking were the main characteristics of most guides.

"Alright," she said, taking a seat on the only chair that wasn't piled with worn books, which was worn but comfortable itself. "What should I call you?"

"My name is Umbrae," he said. "Shadow in Latin. You're Avrul here. What should I call you?" He was being polite; much nicer than a rude, snobby guide that she'd been told most were.

"By my name here. It would be hard to be two people. It's better if my role became ingrain." She smiled, and he laughed -well, chuckled- a bit.

"True. What do you want to know first, then?"

Right down to business. She could get to liking him, if he was always so well behaved. At least if this was a semi-long mission, not one that would take years. Then it would be better to have a friendly relationship, not just professional.

"How long?" It was only thing she really wanted to know at the moment.

"For the mission?" She nodded. "It could take over twenty years in this world, if you don't do a good job building up at the start. But it will be years, not months, if that man told you."

She sighed. She'd hoped it wouldn't be too long, but it was not to be. "Why this body? It seems that this Avrul had family."

"She did," he said shortly. "Oh, I apologize. She just… wasn't supposed to live so long. Her mother almost had a miscarriage because of emotional pain, but the baby –you- were saved through magic. There have been other life and death insistences, like today for example. She was supposed to die, but you came." He wanted to say something more, but didn't.

"Ah," she understood. "You watched over her, then?"

"… Yes." He was hesitant to admit it.

"So you were recently promoted from a Guardian to a Guide?" she asked, interested but keeping her tone business-like.

"Yes," he admitted, turning his head away.

"Well, then, let us first timers do our best together." She smiled. So did he.

She boldly offered her hand to seal the deal. He took it, and shook it once. A jolt went through them both as a partnership was struck, there essences tied together for the time being. It would only be possible to untangle them when she left this world to return to her own home.

"Thank you…" he said. She knew what for, and nodded.

"Now," she began. "What is my mission?"

"Things that are destined to happen here are, but the Council of Worldly Fates is unhappy with the one in charge of this one. It is your job to point the Major Players in the right direction by whatever means necessary. They are making another Wheel and Tapestry as we speak, but it will take a while." He paused. She nodded for him to continue.

"Avrul was –is- a Lovegood. You are in the world that I believe is a book in yours. Harry Potter does indeed exist here, and everything that happens in those books in the destiny that you must change. I'll help you if I can, but otherwise…" He trailed off, uncomfortable.

"I'm on my own, right?" she asked.

He nodded, expression sad. "Yes."

"What is the Correct Path, and who must I direct?" she asked, making mental notes.

"All the main characters; you are a year older than Mr. Harry Potter, and it's been five years since that Halloween night. The Correct Path, as you say, is whatever you and the Council think will make this world better. I'll be relaying the Council's orders to you, and the status of the Wheel, though you are free to work without orders as long as you don't create too many tangled webs."

So, he's six and I'm seven. I am a Lovegood, have vampire cousins (they'd told her on the way to her room), and am most likely pureblood. My name here is Avrul, and I currently live in this mansion with my Great-Grandmother, Aunt Annalynn, Uncle Keir, and their children Vivian (three years older) and Gale (two years older) who are visiting from France (what she'd gathered from the siblings' talking).

I'll think of a way to change things for the better. I've accepted this mission and I'll do my best.

She thanked Umbrae, who was surprised but pleased, and watched him fade away, most likely to report her arrival to the Council.

"'You are needed'," she whispered to herself, repeating the unisex voice's words. "I'll try. They can't ask for much more than that. My best will have to be enough."

Her wrist (which had been bandaged by Madam Mankale) throbbed a bit as she pulled the covers of the bed that was-and-wasn't hers over her new body, not knowing where clothes were to change.

"What more can we ask for?" a unisex voice whispered as she fell asleep. "Than what you can do?"

She smiled. "I thank you for the Calling, Leader of the Council. Don't let me dream of the River of Red."

"You won't," the voice assured her, "as long as you do your best."

Her wish. It was granted, now.

A wish to help.

END…

E/N: A one-shot. In one day! 14 pages! That's a lot, you know.

The scene splitters are what worlds she's in. Eternity is her home, and Another Place is the Harry Potter world. As for the Lovegood part… I couldn't help myself! It seemed like the best family with influence, and wouldn't it be nice if Luna had family besides her father?

Blame the Plot Bunny (even though it was a talking crow this time) if you didn't like anything.

Q: Would you like a sequel with the details of how she fulfills her mission?

A: Yours. Your answer, in a review!

Hope you enjoyed it as much as I loved writing this!

Shadow : Li